"I need a drink." Wanda pushed herself off the sofa, using Lewis' knee for leverage. "Anyone wanna join me at the pub? First round's on me."
A whoop of excitement went around the room. Only Marti rolled her eyes. "Mom..."
"What?" Her mother propped her hands on her hips. "We've got something to celebrate, right? It's Travis' first night out. That calls for a nice cold beer."
"Hate to break to you," Travis looked from Wanda to Marti, a grin on his face, "but your mom is right."
"I'll catch up with you guys later. I'll drive Charlotte home first." Savannah took her sister's guitar.
"Drive safe, dear." Wanda gave Charlotte a careful hug. When the two girls had left, she turned to Julian. "Are you coming, too, professor?"
"I have a class in the morning," he said as he put his guitar into its case. "So does your daughter, by the way."
"Geez, thanks for ratting me out to my mother," Marti protested but had to break out into a smile when she saw her teacher's smirk. "One drink? It's on the house. And it's your victory, too."
Julian's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Seems like the perseverance runs in the family. Alright. Let me just put this away." He pointed at the instrument. "And I'll meet you there."
"But don't you dare bail out on us," Wanda waggled a finger at him.
"Can we not use the word bail tonight?" Travis interjected.
"Sorry, hun. Come on, I'll make it up to you." Marti's mother hooked her arm into Travis' as they left.
"See you in a few, professor." Marti beamed at Julian and couldn't help feeling even more victorious when she saw the light blush creeping onto his cheeks.
###
There were only a few patrons at the pub when half the Hellcats squad bustled in. Wanda immediately took up her spot behind the bar and handed out the promised drinks, much to the dismay of the girl who was on bar duty tonight.
"So this is what you college kids do after class."
Marti flinched at the sound of Julian's voice behind her. She turned to see him taking in his surroundings as if this was his first time to a pub. "When we're not single-highhandedly taking down the head of the athletics department." She tilted her head, eyeing him. "When's the last time you've been to a bar?"
He hesitated for a moment, shrugging with one shoulder. "Our meeting the other day aside... it's been a while. The scene hasn't changed much, though."
"The scene?" Marti raised her eyebrows at him, snorting a little laugh. "Let's get you a drink, professor."
#
Lewis had whisked Marti away to dance to some 70s classic rock tune from the jukebox. They even did a little routine which fit surprisingly well.
Julian couldn't help but watch. It was too enticing not to. Seeing his student shaking her... he took a sip from his beer, trying to focus on something else. Something that was a little less against university policy, or against what he used to think was his moral code.
"Water, please," Marti panted, practically crashing into the bar next to him. She took a long gulp from the glass the girl at the bar put in front of her. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself, professor."
"I am, " he half-lied. "Although I think your mother was trying to come on to me."
Marti laughed. "If it makes you feel any better, she usually doesn't hit on law school graduates."
He looked at her, corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. "I try to take that as a compliment."
"I was meant as one." She finished her beverage. "So, uhm... would I completely overstep the teacher-student-boundaries if I ask you to dance with me?"
Julian almost choked on his beer. "Miss Perkins, I don't hug. What makes you think that I dance?"
"Or...," she ignored his questions, "I could tell my mother that you'd like another drink and want to know all about that one time..."
"Alright." He slipped off his stool, sighing theatrically. "Just don't assume this will get you a better grade."
She grinned her broadest grin. "Depends on how good this dance is going to be." She reached for his hand and practically dragged him after her to the dance floor.
If on purpose or by coincidence, the jukebox started playing a Southern rock song with a heavy guitar rhythm and a driving drum beat.
Marti wrapped one arm around Julian's neck, the fingers of her other hand slipped between his.
"You don't dance much, do you?" She looked up at him, spotting his discomfort.
"I know laws and paragraphs. That's what I'm good at." He shifted from one foot to the other in a stiff-legged dance step. "I leave the fancy routines to those who know what they are doing."
"You don't need fancy routines, just..." Marti brushed an unruly strand of hair from her face. "Alright, you like music, right? You know what it feels like when you play guitar, when the music's getting into you. Just... listen to that rhythm. Let it...," she cleared her throat, "seep into you. The moves will come to you."
He looked down at her for a long moment and as the song went on, the air around them seemed to tighten. As did his grip on her hand. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer against him.
If her squad members were looking, if her mom was rolling her eyes at her, Marti didn't care. All she cared about was the incredibly warm hand in the small of her back, the beat of the music thrumming through her body and her professor's dark eyes boring into hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell his cologne.
They swayed to the music, letting the rhythm guide their steps.
She let go of his hand and wrapped the arm around his neck, bringing their bodies even closer together, her knee slowly inching between his legs.
Julian's now free hand went to her hip, fingers gently digging into her flesh.
This should be weird. It should be awkward. She was dancing with her teacher of all people. And not just little ballroom number at a function or fundraiser. This was something else entirely. This was heated, sweaty and even a little dirty. And it was good.
Marti all but flinched when someone changed the song on the jukebox to an upbeat and obnoxious pop song.
They remained like that for a long moment before Julian practically tore himself away from her, bringing half a step of distance between them. He cleared his throat, shifting from one leg to the other. "I should go," he said, his voice sounding a little strained. "I still have to prepare tomorrow's class."
Without waiting for her answer, he turned on his heel, went to grab his jacket off the bar stool and left the pub.
For a moment, all Marti could do was stand there, dumbstruck, staring after him. Then she followed him.
#
"Julian, wait." She caught up with him at his car, a burgundy, slightly banged-up pick-up truck.
He was about to unlock the driver's door and stopped with his hand on the door handle, shoulders sagging with a frustrated sigh.
"Look... I'm sorry," Marti began. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Julian laughed a wry little laugh. "Believe me, Miss Perkins. My... discomfort is not the problem."
She looked at him, or rather at his back, until it dawned on her what he was he talking about. Heat erupted on her cheeks. "I'm... I shouldn't have pushed you into this. I overstepped the bounds. I'm sorry."
"Marti, do us a favor...," he turned around to her, leaning against the door of the truck, "stop apologizing."
"Sorry." As soon as she said it, she winced, raising her hands in defense.
A beat passed between them in uncomfortable silence.
"So...," Marti started in an attempt to break the tension. "Nice car. I always thought you were more of an... eco-friendly type, not smoke-blowing vintage."
"That should teach you not to make assumptions." A smirk quirked his mouth. "It is, in fact, my very first car. Only runs six out of ten times but... it gets me places."
"Old-school...," she nodded in appreciation and sauntered over to the truck, peeking onto the flatbed before leaning against the side of the car. "I like that."
Julian's smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. ""It's also the reason I was late for my first case in court." He gave her pointed look.
"You were held in contempt, I presume."
"Case got dismissed ten minutes in."
"Bummer."
"You could say that."
Marti shifted from one leg to the other, stashing her hands deep into her pockets. "Listen, I... I haven't thanked you yet for... well, giving us this chance. It was a pretty long shot, especially getting Bill Marsh to resign. It really means a lot to me. And the squad."
He looked at her for a moment. "You are one of my best students, Marti. That you'd be willing to take up cheerleading of all things to get your law degree...," he paused, obviously trying to recollect his thoughts. "I'd hate to loose someone who has that kind of passion for the cause."
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. On her second try, she was able to speak. "I don't how to respond to that."
He grinned at her. "Then don't." Another moment passed. "I... really should get going."
"Right... the class." Before she even knew what she was doing, she breached the gap between and pulled him into a quick hug, placing a hurried peck on his cheek.
Much to her surprise, his hand closed around her bicep, keeping her from pulling back. "I told you I'm not a hugger."
His voice was impossibly low, vibrating against her ear. He stood impossibly close to her, warm body brushing up against hers. She could smell the cologne on his neck, the beer on his breath.
When she spoke, her voice shook more than she liked to. "You also said you weren't a dancer." She swallowed hard, channeling all the sassiness she could come up with. "We danced."
She looked up at him, his darkened eyes boring into hers and for a second, she wasn't even sure who or were she was.
And then she kissed him.
Their lips were merely brushing together, the touch so brief, it didn't even leave a taste.
Marti pulled back from him as much as his grip on her arm allowed her to. He looked at her with an almost unreadable expression. What she icould/i read in his eyes was...
She couldn't finish her thought as he shoved her with her back against the side of the truck, his body pinning her against the vehicle.
They lingered like that for a moment, with only an inch of space between them until she understood what he was doing.
He was waiting. Waiting for her to make a move, to make the decision for them. She had already made it.
The kiss deepened quickly, and slowed down at the same time.
At the first touch of his tongue against hers, a little jolt ran down her spine and she moaned into his mouth, body becoming pliant almost immediately. She tilted her head to the side, changing their angle. His hand went into her hair, the other snaked around her back to pull her even closer.
Marti broke the kiss first, drawing in a breath. "What... is going on here?"
Julian gave her a half-shrug and his trademark smirk. "We dance."
###
Sitting in a car had never made Marti so nervous. Okay, so maybe her first driving test or that one time in Dan's backseat had come close but... this was different.
Her entire body was tingling with anticipation and she constantly shifted in her seat. She didn't even dare to turn her head and look at her professor.
After a few more heated kisses and hastily exploring gropes, they had decided that the parking lot of the pub (where her friends and her mother were still celebrating their victory) wasn't the best place to... make out. The mere thought of "making out" with her professor sent a chill down her spine.
Whatever was going to happen, it was awkward and wrong in so many ways and yet, Marti couldn't bring herself to care. If anything, she was excited, even a little giddy about it.
Their kisses had been nothing like the ones she'd had with Lewis or Dan or any guy in her recent past. It was nothing like the awkward fumbles in the cramped backseat or the hidden smooches in the side corridor of Cheertown.
This was something else, something... mature.
Julian pulled the car up to the curb in front of his house, got out and went to open the door for her.
She followed him to the house and he had already unlocked the door and gone inside when she stopped.
He turned around to her, eyebrows raised. But he didn't say anything, waiting.
Marti shifted uneasily, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. She focused on a very interesting spot on the door frame. "Look, before we... before anything happens here... I just want you to know that this isn't about... gratitude or... taking advantage."
"I never thought it was." He looked at her for a moment, a smile ghosting over his face. "Marti, if you want to go home, I'll take you home. If you want to come in..." He opened the door even further, making his point.
She couldn't help but smile at that, grateful that he, yet again, gave her the choice. Whatever was going to happen, she would be the one calling the shots. A liberating and exhilarating feeling, to say the least.
She breached the gap between them, planting a brief kiss on his lips. When she pulled back from him, he grinned that all too disarming grin at her. His hand closed on the lapel of her jacket and he pulled her inside, door clicking shut behind them.